


Night Writing

by campylobacter



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Languages and Linguistics, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campylobacter/pseuds/campylobacter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes a special research assistant to help translate alien writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Writing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spiletta42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiletta42/gifts), [Mirrored_Illusions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirrored_Illusions/gifts).



> Prompts: "convince", "alien sex toys", "naughty"
> 
> Takes place after Season 10 or Ark of Truth

"So, the first thing a linguist does automatically when encountering a strange set of glyphs is to determine whether they're letters, numbers, or musical notation?" Vala squints at scribbled papers Daniel had set aside as he munches on the energy bar she'd brought him.

"Yeah, sort of," he mumbles, chewing. "I mean, there's pictograms, or ideograms, too, but," he swallows, his mouth now free to indulge in lecture, "I can kind of intuit patterns common to a phonetic alphabet versus a syllabary..."

"Stick figures?" Vala's attention predictably shifts from his academic notes to two hasty sketches.

"Um."

"They appear to be engaging in such innocent goings-on." Instead of her usual teasing tone, she affects a drier, more analytical tone that alarms him. And draws him in. "Upright, with a little thingy dangling. Or supine, mounted by another..."

"Instructions, I think," he ventures, hoping to convince her.

She's unconvinced. "Pornography, I think."

"No, they're ostensibly non-erotic, medical diagrams."

"How in the world did you figure that out from this jumble of text?" She looks at the original artifact: a blue, table-sized, burnished metal plate covered in dots and dashes.

He sighs, and then takes her hand. "Here, feel." He positions her fingertips over the symbols, pulling them in a circular motion over a grouping of glyphs.

The surprise on her face indicates instant revelation. "Oh! How...?"

"Now counter-clockwise." He lets go her hand, allowing her to move it herself in the opposite direction.

"Hmm, not the same sensation as before." A pout changes her face from delight to disappointment.

"A tactile symbology that reveals a projected mental ideography." Daniel hesitates before continuing. "I, I just needed you here to test a theory."

She's preoccupied, brushing her fingertips over other glyph groupings. Circular motions, linear motions, diagonal -- reading with her hands, eyes closed, hopefully seeing the same shapes in her head that had appeared in his when he'd broken the Don't Touch the Artifact Rule.

He clears his throat to get her attention. "Vala."

"They're naughty, but not... porny," she whispers, in awe of the novel discovery. "Unless..."

"Unless this." Daniel places his hand on hers again.

"Mmm, much better," she murmurs, in a tone that increases his heart rate. "And precisely how did you formulate this theory?"

"Er, it was awkward, and, um, involved Bill Lee grabbing my hand away when he saw me touching the plate."

"Ooh, did you explore this theory with him?" she teases, at the same time running her fingers over a phallic image.

"He's married."

"So what?"

"With kids!" 

"Well, did you?"

"No! I wanted to test it with you." He guides her hand over a different grouping that illustrates a pair of figures engaging in decidedly oral activities.

"I'm flattered," she purrs, "but this imaging lab isn't furnished with more than a rolling stool and a cold floor."

"Our quarters?" he murmurs in her ear.

"Not sure I can make it that far." She lifts the hand he's holding and places it on her breast. In the next instant, her lips meet his in unequivocal invitation.


End file.
